


Shattered

by NeuroWriter14



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Fifth Year, M/M, Tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26845969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeuroWriter14/pseuds/NeuroWriter14
Summary: Voldemort can feel the death of his horcruxes and every time, he gains their memories. Or so he thinks. So far, only one has perished and he's determined to keep it that way.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 9
Kudos: 86
Collections: Harry Potter





	Shattered

_A flash of emerald._

_Harry screamed._

_Cedric's body went flying backward, bathed in emerald light._

_Stillness. Terror. Pain._

_Cedric._

_Cedric._

_CEDRIC._

Harry shot upward in his bed. His shirt was plastered to his chest and his heart was thrumming in his head. His hands fisted in the sheets of his small bed and the covers were thrown haphazardly over his legs. Hedwig fluffed in her cage, her eyes shining in the dark as she looked over at Harry. But Harry stared at the wall in front of him. Images of emerald were plastered against his eyelids, so vibrant that every time he blinked, he could see it once more. He squeezed the sheets, trying to feel anything other than the adrenaline running through his veins. Night after night, he had the same dreams over and over. Night after night he would scream Cedric's name and it was useless. The body in his dreams never awoke. But he would. Over and over he found himself fighting invisible foes, waking up covered in sweat and his heart pounding. Over and over. But it was the same outcome every time.

He had been back at the Dursley's for two months, his summer vacation nearly at a close. And it had been the longest two months of his life. He had never felt more alone. For a day, in and amongst the monotonous melancholy that was his life, he wondered if he had ever felt as alone as he did now. And the truth was, he hadn't. He should have felt lonelier when he was occupying the cupboard under the stairs, the very obviously unwanted nuisance that was shuttered away like a piece of broken furniture. But that had been before he had some idea of what it was like to be loved. And it was worse now. His friends sent letters, it wasn't like the summer Dobby had stolen them all. But they were empty letters filled with idle pleasantries. There was more, he could feel it. But no one would tell him anything. 

Harry had resorted to lying in the bushes below the window of the Dursley's house, listening to the news as it played. Neither he nor Dudley spent much time in the house. Dudley had grown rapidly while Harry was away, he almost didn't recognize his cousin. But the growth wasn't all in height, it was also in muscle. Harry had been Dudley's punching bag for quite some time when he was younger, he knew how strong his cousin was. He was worse now. 

Not that Harry ever had to deal with him. 

He and the Dursley's had been distant since returned. Not that he minded. He wasn't quite up for the company of people who hated him. They must have sensed something too because they avoided Harry just as much as he avoided them. His screams in the night likely didn't help much. He woke up often and likely woke them with him.

He couldn't even be bothered to care about it. He couldn't care about much lately. Not anymore. 

All he knew was he was going stir crazy without any news. 

He lied back in his bed, still shaking slightly from adrenaline. The ceiling blurred above him. He blinked, not truly seeing anything. 

After a while, he turned toward the window, looking and not seeing any hint of light in the sky. He should try to sleep again. 

He blinked once more, still seeing emerald behind his eyelids. 

He rolled himself, trying to smother himself in the pillow. But it was no use, the darkness gave way to emerald and the still body clothed in yellow and black. Rather reluctantly, he fell asleep once again. 

The next morning began as every morning during this summer had. Harry woke up later than the Dursleys and was generally ignored. Dudley had already left the house and his uncle was buried in a paper, pretending Harry didn't exist. His aunt was in another room, doing something that would likely keep her attention from Harry. He grabbed something small to eat before rushing from the house before anyone could say anything. He trudged down the street, finish his small meal then shoved his hands in the pockets of his well-worn jeans. It was the same over and over. Every day. He would stroll around Little Whinging for a while, then return to the Dursley's for the news, Dudley would arrive home, and Harry would trudge in after him. Then he would go to bed and the nightmares would start.

Sometimes he would hear from Ron and Hermione, but most days were just emptiness. 

Today was no different. 

And tomorrow would be no different either. Even though it was his birthday. 

He spent the majority of the day in a deserted park, swinging idly on the swing set. Nothing entertained him, but being out of the Dursley's house helped. 

The sun started to dip below the horizon and Harry caught a glimpse of Dudley parting from his friends. It was an unspoken rule that Harry had to return when Dudley did and his cousin only really returned home for dinner. Harry began the walk back and he and Dudley eventually fell into step beside one another. Neither said anything, neither cared to. It seemed a tentative truce had dawned between them, and Harry wasn't in the mood to break it. 

Once more, he trudged into the Dursley's house and once more they ignored him. Harry knew he would be lucky to have dinner on most nights, so instead of joining his aunt, uncle, and cousin at the table, he continued upstairs. He shut his door behind him with a soft click, watching Hedwig flutter at his entrance. He left her cage open along with the window most days so she could come and go as she pleased. But often he found that she was there in the morning and there when he went to bed at night. 

He fell onto his bed, looking up at the ceiling once more. It was the same sight it had always been since the Dursley's deigned to give him Dudley's second bedroom. Day after day. Night after night.

He read the letters Ron, Hermione, and Sirius had sent.

Nothing. 

There was nothing. 

Only some birthday wishes and some snuck treats that Harry would have to hide as he had done every time he returned to the Dursley's house before someone else sniffed them out. 

He was going insane.

Harry practically threw the letters across the room before he fell back against the mattress. He didn't bother undressing, he only kicked off his shoes and pulled off his glasses, setting them on the bedside table. Another day gone and more to come. He was counting down the days until he could return to Hogwarts until he could see if there was anything new. He was effectively cut off from everyone and everything and it was terrible. Was this what it was going to be like until he returned? Was he doomed to live in darkness? He needed something, anything. He had to know. It was he who fought Voldemort when he returned, wasn't it? It was he who lived yet again when everything said he shouldn't? Why, oh why, was he the one who was left in the dark? He groaned and rolled over, shoving his face in the pillow and sighing.

He didn't know how long he lied there with his face buried in his threadbare pillow, but eventually, he fell asleep.

* * *

_A woman sat in front of him, her hair red as fire, and her eyes emerald green. She gazed at Harry lovingly, running her fingers through his hair and smiling happily. Her fingers worked down his cheek, turning his head this way and that as if she were examining him. She then moved to his hands, picking them up and pressing them against her lips._

_"Are you ready, Harry?" She asked quietly before leaning forward and pressing a kiss against his forehead._

_The world around her seemed blurry, but the moment she pulled away, the whole world seemed to open up and Harry saw a series of other faces. One looked incredibly like his own, eyes hidden behind round glasses and wild raven hair framing his face. Another looked incredibly like Sirius Black, only slightly younger and with much thicker dark hair. His face wasn't as gaunt as it was when Harry had seen him in the past, and instead, he looked young and healthy, unaffected by the Dementors of Azkaban. Next to him was Remus, who looked similar to how he always had, just as drawn and gaunt, but younger and less scared. His amber eyes smiled at Harry. Hidden behind him was another who he only caught a glimpse of, but the mousy hair and pinched face were enough to tell him that they were likely Peter Pettigrew._

_"Happy birthday to you," They began singing, James moving forward with a cake in the shape of a broom. "Happy birthday to you." Harry felt a grin on his face and his tiny hands clapped in front of him. "Happy birthday, dear Harry." His mother was grinning at him, her face filled with nothing but love. "Happy birthday to you."_

_They cheered and Harry cheered along with them, though he didn't know why he was cheering._

_"Make a wish my love," His mother whispered in his ear. "Happy birthday, Harry."_

_Their faces began to fade no matter how hard Harry clung. He longed to see them, together and alive. Pettigrew's face faded first, then Remus's, then Sirius's, then James's. Harry turned, seeing his mother with her kind smile and vibrant eyes._

_"Happy birthday, Harry."_

_The scene changed and suddenly Harry was in the Dursley's kitchen. His aunt glared down at him while next to him, Dudley screamed. All were younger, and Dudley looked more like a blob with hands and legs than a human child. Harry blinked up at his aunt, wondering what was wrong and why he was suddenly the cause of such ire. His uncle left the room, taking Dudley with him and cooing happily at his child._

_"This is the worst day of the year," His aunt muttered under her breath, cleaning dishes with vigor. "If it weren't for you, my sister would still be alive." Her eyes turned to glare at him. Dudley and Vernon were nowhere near the room as her upward gaze told him before she looked back at him. "You should never have been born."_

_The scene changed again and once more, he was in the Dursley's kitchen._

_"Here," His aunt shoved a plate of burnt breakfast his way. "Birthday." That was all she managed to grumble before Harry was suddenly shoved aside by his cousin._

_Dudley ran through the house happily, running into Vernon elsewhere before a series of cheers and giggles echoed from another room. Harry trudged back to the cupboard, reaching for the latch that even at his height was still a little high for him. He stepped inside, setting his breakfast down on the small bed. The door shut behind him and he heard the distinct slide of the latch. He didn't bother trying to stop his tears._

_Again and again, the scene changed as Harry grew over the years. Most years, he found himself waking up in the cupboard under the stairs._

_"Happy birthday, Harry." He said to himself before inevitably, Dudley trampled down the stairs, making dust fall on him._

_The scene changed once more and suddenly Harry was on the floor of the rundown shack on his 11th birthday. Dudley was asleep on the couch while Harry curled up on the floor near the fire. He drew a cake and candles on the floor, counting until 11. Dudley's watch beeped at midnight and Harry looked down at the dust cake once more._

_"Make a wish, Harry."_

_The scene faded and Harry was suddenly staring at darkness._

_"Happy birthday, Harry." A voice whispered._

* * *

Harry woke up in the same position he had fallen asleep, with tears running down his cheeks.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://neurowriter14.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/NWriter14)


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